Nothing To Lose But Their Chains
by Corsair Sinphonse
Summary: America and Russia take a trip that goes horribly, horribly wrong. Russia gets a taste of communism, and America is met with an unexpected surprise. Post-WWI, albeit barely . Based on RLS's Jekyll and Hyde. Rated T for strong language.


**A/N:** Wow, it really has been a while.

After dropping off the face of the earth for a year, I'm back with this piece of shit I thought up to remedy writer's block. Can't win them all. (And I still haven't finished that goddamn story I'd started.)

I'll keep this short and sweet- I strived to keep this as historically accurate as possible. As in made absolutely sure. Right down to the gritty little details in the metaphors- and yes, there's quite a large one of those. Don't worry, I'll toss hints.

Oh, and one last thing- I didn't consider this a crossover, because although it is VERY strongly based on the story of Jekyll and Hyde, it just takes ideas from it. That's really it.

Enjoy my new favorite pairing (well, not quite yet, but perhaps in another story coming VERY SOON. (;). _Review, arasseo? _

* * *

><p>"Ivan, honestly, I never figured you'd be such a dork about this."<p>

"You are calling _me_ the dork, when _you_ were the one that suggested this as a compromise, da…"

Laughing, Alfred Jones followed his friend into the large stone building. The two were on business in Germany following the end of the Great War, but both being anxious from sitting in a conference room all day, they decided to take a break to go sightseeing. And as Alfred was the history fanatic and Ivan Braginski the science enthusiast, the two finally agreed on a visit to the extravagant home of a famous German chemist. After the government collapse within the country due to the end of the war, there was no one around to give an official state tour, so the two took matters into their own hands.

"It looks like the place has not been touched for a long time," noted Ivan, as he pushed open the large early 19th century doors. A sign on the front door informed visitors that the previous owner of the estate had died twenty years ago, but his memory would live on as a strong part of German history. Alfred nodded in response, and glanced around the large front hall in awe. "This place is incredible," he noted, perhaps only to himself. Suddenly realizing that his friend had disappeared, he turned around at the sound of Ivan's voice.

"Huh?"

Chuckling, Ivan's silvery hair poked through the door of a neighboring room in a conjoining corridor. "I figured you were not paying attention. Are you coming, or not? I found something particularly interesting." Alfred smiled at the sudden return of the Russian's spirit. "All right, all right. I'm coming."

As he stepped into the room, Alfred glanced at the dust covering everything in sight. Even the path of the now-open door had displaced dust across the floor, leaving a freshly swept semicircle on the ground in front of him. Noting this, Alfred quirked an eyebrow. "Ivan, how did you get in here…?" Not looking up from admiring the many facets of the laboratory, Ivan gestured toward the ancient deadbolt that had been dislodged from its previous home, screwed into the large wooden door separating the room from the outside world, and tossed several yards across the room. Alfred snickered at the lonely deadbolt upon the floor, and looked over at the lab bench Ivan sat at, staring into the various mechanisms and test ingredients with a crazed look in his eyes. "You're insane, dude. Just let me know when you're ready to quit playing mad scientist, so we can get out of this weird lab." As the Eastern country opened his mouth to retaliate, he suddenly caught sight of something particularly interesting at the far end of the lab bench. Darting over to investigate, he emerged with a vial in his hand, uncorking it to reveal a vermilion liquid.

Admiring the glimmering color of the swirling formula, Ivan held up the flask to catch the attention of his friend. "Look at it! The colors change in the light." Holding back a nervous laugh at the nation's ridiculous eye smiles, Alfred took a step back. "Ivan, we really should get back... this place is really beginning to give me the creeps." Wearing an incredibly convincing pout, his friend turned and playfully batted his eyes. "Come now, мой друг, we just got here. And we have yet to discover what this lovely red concoction is, or will d-"

Looking up from the dead plants by the window (which was certainly more effective to resist Ivan's pouting than looking at the Russian himself), Alfred glanced over at his friend after his pause. Annoyed, Alfred rolled his eyes, and responded with an exasperated "Yes?" Ivan slowly turned to the other, quirking an eyebrow. Alfred shuddered, as the dim lights cast an unnaturally sinister shadow upon the man's poisonously pale visage. Realizing the connotation behind the way Ivan was staring lovingly at the beaker, Alfred was quick to backpedal. "Ivan, no fucking way." Grinning, the Russian ran over to his companion. "Well, I know _you _sure as hell wouldn't let me test it on you, and I am legitimately quite interested. It is only science, дорогая." Alfred frowned. "You're an idiot, know that? You're going to get yourself killed… or worse. And if something happens to you…" He trailed off, as Ivan's fixated stare on the vial hadn't faltered.

"I've got nothing to lose, America."

Alfred froze, not sure whether it had been due to the use of his nation's title or the unusually low tone to the man's voice. Noting the halted movement, Ivan smiled over at Alfred and put the flask to his lips, despite the younger nation's protests. But immediately after the liquid had met his tastebuds, he reflexively dropped the flask to the floor. "Ugh, it's certainly not my beverage of choice. I think even absinthe would have been better than that," Ivan bitterly remarked. Sighing in relief, but masking it as aggravation, his friend marched over and tugged on his arm, moving toward the door as much as his own strength would allow. "If you'd died, do you realize what a shitload of trouble I'd be in?" With a defeated roll of his eyes, Ivan complied with the struggling American. "Alright, alright. I am fine, Alfred." Alfred, however, wasn't convinced of the minimal damage apparently affecting the Russian. "Are you sure, Ivan?" he inquired skeptically. Smiling, Ivan turned to his friend, nodding. "Perfectly alright, comrade. Just -"

And as quickly as the smile had graced his lips, it changed into an expression of intense pain. The man stumbled over to the lab bench, gripping his head tightly. Alfred began to sense that something was very wrong with the Eastern nation. "Something… is changing, Alfred…" the Russian groaned through clenched teeth. "Shit! Ivan, what's happening?" Alfred cried, moving to the counter. Pushing the American away, Ivan staggered around various boxes of who-_knows_-what and fell to his knees in front of a long mirror at the end of the room. "Feels like… everything is burning… breathtaking pain… it's devouring me, Alfred, it's consuming me," he moaned. Taking several steps forward, Alfred began to panic. "I have to go get help, Ivan, I'm afraid you're gonna…" Faltering, the nation stopped dead in his tracks when his friend let out a weak laugh. "Afraid I'm going to die? I think I would choose death rather than this agony… so what is this, is this death?" He ended the cry with a crazed shriek, blindly throwing his fist through the glass in front of him and scattering broken shards across the floor. Through widened eyes, Alfred watched as his friend fell silent. "Ivan…" he started. And although the Western nation spoke his name, the one known as Ivan sensed nothing more than an empty word cascading to the floor. Opening his eyes after a long silence, his gaze caught a flicker of red that moved with his eyes in a mirror shard below him. And he wasn't the only one who noticed it. Beginning to think that something seriously wrong had come over his friend, Alfred moved to slowly back toward the door- however, this didn't go unnoticed either.

"Stop."

And Alfred complied.

"I just want to go get some help, because we don't know what that red stuff has done to you," Alfred said, increasingly becoming more cautious. A chill suddenly ran down his spine as dark laughter echoed through the room, distinctively _not _characteristic of his Ivan, and sounding of pure malice. "Oh, but I do," he murmured, voice assuming a sing-song tone dripping with venom. Irritated, Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "Alright, then what the fuck is wrong with you?" The menacing laughter began to fill the room again, sending the same uneasy feeling through Alfred's nerves. "Придурковатый американец, I'm simply savoring the feeling of being _alive_," he said in a voice strikingly different than that of Ivan, several octaves lower and laced with iniquity. Picking up a shard of glass and admiring the glint of blood shimmering in the dim light, apparently without noticing the same blood running down the side of his palm, he spoke as if he were in some sort of trance. "Tell me, comrade, have you ever realized how captive one truly is within one's mind?" He spoke softly, but not soft enough for Alfred not to hear the tone bordering insanity in his voice. "Perhaps it would be best if we began thinking outside the bounds of society… and began making some radical changes to the pathetic world we inhabit."

Gaze lingering for a moment on the broken flask to the side that shattered what seemed like years ago, Alfred's expression hardened. "Let's go. We have to go." Glancing to the broken shards in front of him, his voice shook slightly.

"I'm not going to let you keep talking like a crazy person, Ivan."

"Call me by my true title, America." A condescending smirk was evident in his voice.

Confused, Alfred looked up.

"Russia?"

Laughing that same sinister laugh, the creature shook its head slowly. "No… not anymore." As the creature stood up and turned to face the nation, Alfred stumbled backward at the piercing gaze he received. Eyes widening as he simultaneously made contact with the bench behind him as the man in front of him wielded his lead pipe with a smirk, Alfred realized that the last of Ivan had disappeared from the nation's eyes.

"My name is the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, and it would behoove you to remember."

* * *

><p>Well… technically, Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels <em>were<em> (social) scientists...


End file.
